


i'm just a notch in your bedpost, but you're just a line in a song

by staarliings



Series: tyrion's lovers [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Jon needs to get laid more, M/M, Sex at the wall, Tyrion is collecting boyfriends, look who stayed up late writing this gem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:33:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29753415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staarliings/pseuds/staarliings
Summary: Tyrion visits the Wall again, years after the wars and the army of the dead. Because of reasons.
Relationships: Tyrion Lannister/Jon Snow
Series: tyrion's lovers [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2186760
Comments: 7
Kudos: 9





	i'm just a notch in your bedpost, but you're just a line in a song

Jon Snow's lips are cold.

Tyrion contemplates this as the young man in question presses said icy lips to his throat, his collarbone and then back to his jawline. He's so young, so inexperienced, and it makes Tyrion's heart melt.

All these years at the wall, and Jon is still such a virgin.

Still, the dwarf's cock twitches in his trousers as he struggles to hold back a moan. He tugs at Jon's inky black curls and joins their mouths together. His lips part, and their tongues touch, and Jon's is so warm and velvety smooth, it makes Tyrion whimper and tug at Jon's hair.

Jon take this as his cue to begin undoing the snaps of Tyrion's clothes. His hands tremble as they peel away their many layers, and soon Tyrion bare bottom is pressed against the furs of Jon's bed. For a moment, they lock eyes, and Jon's are dark and filled with lust.

"Go on then, Snow," Tyrion's voice is rough as he gazes up at his young lover. 

Jon bends down and kisses him again. It's a soft kiss, brief and sweet, and Tyrion wonders how many young ladies wish they were him in that moment. He keeps his eyes closed, savoring the memory, listens to the familiar clink of the oil bottle, and then feels Jon shyly slip inside him.

The sensation of being entered makes him gasp and grip at Jon's nape. His legs shift and make room for Jon, his knees locking around his body.

"You alright?" Jon's voice is low in his ear.

He can only grunt and nod. Alright doesn't even begin to cover the ecstasy of Jon burying himself in him. 

Jon starts slow, grinding his hips into him. Tyrion kisses his shoulder, his neck, his collarbone, moaning into his warm flesh. Jon is nothing if not a gentle lover, and it drives Tyrion mad with lust. When they kiss again, Tyrion's mouth is rough, and he bites at Jon's lower lip, tugging until he elicits a deep moan from him. Jon, in return, grips at his ass and bucks into him sharply.

"Fuck, Snow, have you...been holding...out on me?" Tyrion manages to make out the words as he feels a hand slip between them.

"Just warming you up, Lannister," Jon doesn't stop fucking him, even as he take the dwarf's cock in hand and begin to slowly rub him up and down.

Tyrion feels his own hips buck against Jon's hand, his mouth glossy and hung open as he gasped for breath. Any clever quip he could think of died as he reached his peak, and he spills into Jon's hand just as Jon spills into him.

He can feel Jon trembling over him as they both stop to catch their breath. The warm feeling of peace washes over him as he sinks back against the furs, lost in the afterglow of their moment of passion and lust.

With a shaky hand, Tyrion turns Jon's face to him and gently presses their lips together. No tongues, no desperation. He holds his young lover close and they curl against one another, Tyrion's cheek pressed to Jon's chest.

They can clean up later.

After a long while, Jon breaks the silence. "So, are all you southern lords this easy to seduce?"

His tone is gentle, and it makes Tyrion snort.

"Only the ones who wander this far north for a decent fuck."

"Is that all I am, Lannister? A decent fuck?" Jon attempts to sound offended, but fails.

"No, Snow," Tyrion's voice is tender, no jape. "You're my friend."

There is an awkward silence before Jon replies. "Friends don't do what we just did."

_'My friends do,'_ Tyrion thinks almost bitterly, _'But then again all my friends are whores.'_

Tyrion doesn't respond, only traces a blunt finger over the scars on Jon's chest. He wants to ask about what happened, but then thinks better of it. Jon never asked about the lash marks on his back, after their first time together.

They hardly ever talk in these moments. Not about the wars, or the kings and queens in their life. Tyrion knows better than to mention previous stewards, and Jon avoids the topic of his sisters and does not jape about the whores in town. They're not ghosts, but they haunt them both all the same.

"Does your definition of friendship exclude a decent bath? I'm not opposed to sharing if you aren't." Tyrion can't help but jape in the face in honest feelings.

"I'll have one of the boys draw you one," Jon replies, "But I have to go. Duty calls."

Jon extracts himself from Tyrion's embrace, but then bends down and gives him one last kiss before abandoning the bed and slipping back into his clothes. Tyrion props himself up on his elbow and watches his lover slide back into the black, and he feels a dull ache pulse where his heart is. 

He is so young to be so stern and duty-bound. He should be seducing young maidens and dueling knights, not pacing the wall like a caged animal.

Jon turns back to him, Lord Commander, and says, "Don't wait up. I'll be late tonight. And don't tease Ghost." He smiles, but it's an old man's smile. Too old for his boyish features.

_Where did you learn to do that?'_ Tyrion wonders as he watches Jon leave their chambers.

Tyrion contemplates it as he bathes, examines it in his mind as he snuggles with Ghost, using the wolf's body heat to ease the ache out of his own bones. He falls asleep, later than he should- Jon should know better than to tell him what to do- and that image of his face haunts his dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> So I've decided to make this a thing where I write smut when I'm bored or dealing with writer's block. Tell me what you think.


End file.
